Mother
by RacRules
Summary: "I've escaped my tower, I've found the love of my life, almost lost the love of my life, and found out that my mother was not my mother. This woman is. This woman is my mother. Why oh why do I need to continue telling myself that?" Oneshot.


**Just saw Tangled and LOOOVED IIIIT. I wanted to write a fanfic so bad, so here it is!

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**"Good morning, my darling." The queen entered my room, placing a warm hand on my cheek.

No, not "the queen." Mother. This is my mother.

I smiled softly, blinking at the bright light of my room. My own green eyes stared back at me, my brown hair practically ticking my face as she leaned in close to kiss my forehead.

"Gud mormin…" I mumbled, barely awake.

My mother smiled. My mother. Why does that sound so strange?

"We have a big day ahead of us. Why, first we must alert the kingdom of your return, and then plan the celebration, and then…"

She talked on and on, keeping a constant, regal tone that one must expect was pounded into her by queenhood. Will I ever have that tone? I got fussy, I got worried, I got excited. I'm not exactly your trained, noble princess. But that shouldn't matter now, right? Unlike Gothel, this woman will love me no matter what I do.

"Oh, never mind." My mother sat on my bed, cupping me under her arm. "You've been through so much in the last few days. You should rest, my darling." I couldn't help but frown at her last word. I hated myself for it, but the thought crossed my mind: Why did I want her to call me her flower?

But she was right. I've been through so much! I've escaped my tower, I've found the love of my life, almost lost the love of my life, and…found out that my mother was not my mother. This woman is. This woman is my mother.

Why oh why do I need to continue telling myself that?

"Get dressed, and then we shall have breakfast, hm?" she left, her swirling pattern of green trailing behind her.

I immediately jumped out of bed and threw open my wardrobe. A rainbow of gorgeous silk dresses burst out, barely contained by the carved wood.

My purple dress, made all by myself, lay abandoned on the floor of my chamber. Good. That was just as the rest of my life in that horrible tower should be (except for Pascal, of course).

I threw it on.

It was warm, comfortable. Familiar.

The only familiar thing I still had.

My bare feet brushed the cool stone floors of the castle as I anxiously followed the twisting hallways of my new home. Back at the tower, I knew every nook and cranny, memorized every crack and bump. Here, every turn was a complete stranger.

"Hey, blondie." My heart lifted out of my chest at the voice. He stood behind me, a smirk on his lips and his hand leaning on the wall.

"Oh, Eugene, can you believe it?" I wrapped myself in his arms, reveling in the simple comfort. It seemed the only simple thing I had left. "I'm here, in a castle, with my family…"

"And the most dashing man in the kingdom, of course. Can't forget that."

"Of course not." I joked, giggling, "How could I ever forget that?"

"I guess I can't call you blondie anymore." He chuckled, dropping his arms so his hands can take mine. I leaned in to kiss him before the door across from us opened.

"Ahem." I spun around, red in the face. My father stood in the doorway. I was still a tad uncomfortable around him, even though I knew it was horrible. I'd never had a father before! "Am I interrupting something?"

"N-no." I stammered, running forward to meet him in the dining room. My mother sat strait and proud, prouder than I think I'd ever hope to be.

For my entire life, my food had been rather simple—eggs for breakfast, maybe some pie, vegetable soup for dinner. Here in front of me lay an array of foods I never knew even existed: quail eggs, chocolates, hams, sweet glazes, and countless other things, all for one meal.

"Darling?"

I blinked twice, just then realizing I had been gawking at the table for the last several moments.

"Um, yes. I…uh…yeah." I sat down, sticking my fork in the meal. I ate quietly, every bite something new. New and unfamiliar. New and slightly scary.

The rest of the day was rather uneventful. Mother kept insisting I should rest, but I didn't want to! I had spent my entire life resting, why would I ever want more of it? I wanted to dance in the city, shop, be with the joyful subjects.

Finally, the sun was starting to fall over the castle. The royal stylist was struggling to figure out how to fix my now-short hair when the door swung open.

"The princesses first dinner in the castle shall be cooked now. What will she prefer?" A sharp woman with a hooked nose looked me over as if she was shocked that this mere girl was the thing they had waited eighteen years for. It made me want to shy away from her hard gaze, but I didn't.

"Well," I said. I knew exactly what I wanted! "I'd love some hazelnut soup. It's my favorite!"

The woman's nose twitched in disgust. My heart fell to my stomach. "A filthy peasant dish? Surely, your highness, you don't mean—"

"If it is hazelnut soup my daughter asks for, it is hazelnut soup she shall get!" My mother snapped, giving her a harsh glare. The woman sighed quietly, nodding towards me and walking away.

My hands quivered. Thank goodness my mother was there to rescue me. Yes, self, my mother. Stop hesitating with that title!

Dinner was uncomfortable, to say the least. Mother and father tried to hide their distaste, but I could tell they didn't enjoy eating my favorite soup. Eugene didn't seem to mind, though, and I secretly gave thanks that I fell in love with a lowly thief.

"Um, mother, father, would you mind if Eugene and I went to the castle gardens?"

Father frowned, "Alone, I presume?"

"…Yes. W-would that be okay?"

My father sighed. "I suppose."

I thanked him, grabbing Eugene's hand as I bolted out the door.

If there is one place in the castle I am actually comfortable in, it's the castle garden.

Tiny lanterns light up the sky, a miniature version of my birthday's tradition. The weeping willows drape over the benches like curtains, thick leaves hiding anyone from sight. Inside their sanctuary, we are surrounded by bushes of every flower imaginable, and even more colors. A fountain glistens in the starlight, mists of cool water washing away my confusion.

"I love this place." I whisper, leaning on his shoulder.

"I do too." He threads his fingers in mine. They tingle at his touch.

Suddenly, though, whether it was the place, his hand, or just being with him then, a dam burst through. All the emotions I've been feeling flooded out, forcing themselves out of my mouth.

"I miss my tower." I sob, bending over. Tears streamed down my face, my hands cupped over my eyes, "I know I shouldn't, but everything's so different here and I don't _know _anyone and I'm supposed to be right at home but I'm just not and—"

"Rapunzel!" He exclaimed, his hand gently pushing my face towards his, "Slow down! Now what's wrong?"

I let a breath of air out, closing my eyes, "I like it here, I really do. It's nice. The people are nice. But…"

"It not the place you called home for the last eighteen years."

"No. And my mother…I love her, Eugene. I do. But I've known her for a day. She didn't watch me grow up; she doesn't know my likes, dislikes, anything. To tell you the truth, she doesn't feel like my mother."

He frowned, "Are you saying…Gothel does?"

"No!" I stated firmly, shaking my head, "because she didn't truly care about me. I know who she really is. The woman I miss, the person I called mother all these years, my _mother_…she doesn't exist."

"I see." Eugene placed his chin on my head, taking me in his arms. My tears dripped on his shirt, but he didn't seem to mind. "I wish I could help you with that problem."

"You already have, Eugene. I just needed to tell this to someone." I sighed into his chest. At least he felt familiar.

A single candle still lit up my room. The queen stood above me, her friendly smile doing its best to make me feel at home. I buried myself in my sheets, looking back up at her.

"I love you." She said.

"I love you more." I replied. _Please say it. Please somehow know to say it. _

She smiled, blew out the candle, and her footsteps clicked out of the room.

The final phrase rang in my mind. I guess I'll never hear it again.

_I love you most. _


End file.
